


Happy Cake Day

by Bouzingo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baking, Birthdays, Established Relationship, Food, Multi, Sam POV, Steve was born on the fourth of july
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouzingo/pseuds/Bouzingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam comes to the realization that Natasha doesn't know when her birthday is. Maybe that doesn't have to be a huge deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Cake Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [circ_bamboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/circ_bamboo/gifts).



“I still can’t believe that your birthday is on the fourth of July,” Sam says with a smile. They’re on Sam’s porch and Steve’s grilling burgers while Natasha leans against Sam, eating her mushroom-stuffed pepper. “Like, are you sure?”

“I suppose record-keeping was pretty bad in the 1920s,” Steve says. The purple apron Natasha bought him one time is far too short and clings to his massive and otherwise bare torso. “But my ma told me kids were setting off firecrackers outside when I was being born. Used to say they were just for me.”

“Was it this _hot_ ninety-five years ago?” Natasha asks, fanning herself. It’s been too hot since the middle of June and sunburn and bleached hair are all indignities that Natasha has suffered. Steve’s only gotten mildly more freckled in the sun and Sam loves the hot weather more than either of them.

“Hotter,” Steve says. “We didn’t have air conditioning.”

“Well, it barely seems to make a difference when we’re outside,” Natasha points out.

“Get inside before you burn. I’ll finish up here and we’ll make sangria,” Steve says. Natasha gets off Sam and goes in. Sam has no doubt that Natasha has already collapsed on the couch.

“When is her birthday?” Steve asks after a little bit. “Do you _know?_ Like, has she ever told you?”

“…Now that I think of it, no,” Sam says, frowning.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve says. He looks vaguely troubled, but finishes with the burgers and goes inside with Sam.

Natasha has drawn all the curtains in the living room so that’s where they convene, and they put on the Indiana Jones movie Steve hadn’t got around to seeing yet, the one with Sean Connery. After a bit, Natasha gets up and makes popcorn, coming back with a bowl and lying across Steve and Sam’s legs with a contented sigh.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” she murmurs, and stuffs her face with popcorn.

* * *

 

“Hey, Natasha,” Sam says, maybe over-casually. Natasha looks up from tracing patterns on Steve’s back. He came back from the latest super-hero shenanigans with a shitton bruising and a couple fractures, and he’s been sleeping off the recovery.

“Yeah,” she says, kissing a particularly nasty bruise on Steve’s shoulder.

“When is your birthday?” Sam asks. Natasha pauses, and considers.

“I honestly wish I could tell you,” she says. “It’s missing in my files, and I can’t remember. I had a… a handler, who would tell me I was an odd summer child. So maybe I wasn’t even born in summer.”

“Oh,” Sam says, a little taken aback.

“Should I have one?” Natasha asks. “I would like a cake day.”

“If you want a day for cake, then we can do that,” Sam says. Natasha smiles slowly, and Sam sees that he’s understood, and broached this topic correctly. Sometimes, when it comes to issues of Natasha’s past, she shuts down or refuses to engage. There’d been the topic of reunions, the idea of religion, all the things that had been plucked from her at an early age.

But cake days are still intact, still innocent. There’s a start.

Steve is waking up, smile on his lips before his eyes open.

“Like my bruises?” he says.

“They are ugly,” Natasha counters, kisses the one on his shoulder anyway, then kisses Sam. And then Steve pulls Sam from the half-reclining position he’d opted for and Sam realizes it will be a very lazy Sunday.

* * *

 

Nick Fury knows what kind of cake Natasha would appreciate for a cake day. Nick Fury knows a lot about Natasha in general. Sam wants to ask, but he’s really not sure if he’s ready for the answer. Besides, Nick seems like the kind of guy that keeps secrets once he’s trusted with them.

“Strawberry shortcake, really?” Steve says. “Strawberries aren’t even in season.”

It’s nearly fall and there’s already a chill. Sam shrugs.

“Odd fruit for an odd summer child,” he says dismissively. “Thanks for baking, sugarpie.”

“Call me that again, Wilson, and it will be the last time,” he promises gravely, despite the smattering of blush all over his freckled nose and cheeks.

Natasha comes home midway through Steve’s baking adventure, watches him whip the cream with machine-like efficacy before he starts carefully laying it between the layers. He has allowed Sam to arrange the strawberry in between the sponges and on top, which to be fair is all Sam is good at in the kitchen.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Sam says to Natasha. “But happy cake day.”

Natasha smiles again, that slow smile that doesn’t stop until it’s big and glowing, and dips her hand into the bowl of leftover whipped cream.


End file.
